Subject to Change
by Michi P
Summary: When Edward Elric sacrifices himself in order to revive his brother, he has no idea what time or place the Gate will send him. In a world where he is alone, Edward befriends the Boy Who Lived, joins in the war against the Dark Lord, and tries to find a
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling, and various publishers including Scholastic and Bones.

* * *

**Prologue**

"You'd better get moving."

A young man whose height did not seem to amount to the wisdom and age in his eyes stood in front of a dark-haired girl wearing a white gown. She cradled a sleeping baby in her arms as she looked at the hesitantly smiling face before her.

"I hate to ask this, but could you take him to the surface too?" The blonde-haired teenager turned his head towards a boy-sized form on the ground, missing an arm and a leg and surrounded by thick, deep red blood.

"What about you?" the girl asked timidly. She turned her gaze away from the pitiful creature on the ground and focused her attention on her black-clad companion. For some unexplained reason, she felt scared for the answer.

The teenager turned around, facing the ornate ballroom in which he stood. "I'll destroy this place down to the last plank," he said, "so no one ever gets the idea to create a Philosopher's Stone this way _again_." The last word was spat out with vehemence. Both bowed their heads.

"Very well. I'm sure whatever happens you'll find your way out. You've got strong legs. You'll get up and use them, won't you Edward?" Brown-red eyes looked at the teenager called Edward hopefully. The young woman's words were meant more as a reassurance for her than for the man. Golden eyes gazed back steadily, before he flashed her a comforting smile.

He never did answer her.

* * *

Edward stood alone, at the center of a large intricate alchemic circle. There were more alchemy circles on his forearms, forehead, and at the center of his bare chest, drawn in what seemed to be blood. "What my dad said about the Gate is true. Al's own body and mind should still be there, and now his soul is there too."

A pause. Then, "Maybe life has no equal trade. Maybe you can give up all you've got, and get nothing back. But still…" Edward gained a determined look in his eye. "Even if I can't prove it's true, I have to try. For your sake, Al."

There was a clap that reverberated throughout the room as Edward brought his recently gained right arm (at the sacrifice of his younger brother) to his left. He slowly pulled his arms apart and brought them towards the symbol on his chest. As soon as his fingers touched it, all the alchemic circles in the room glowed a pale blue, gaining in intensity and lightening until everything was engulfed in a blinding white light.

Outside, the young woman with the child clutched tightly to her body turned away from the collapsing building with tears streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

**A/n:** Thank you for reading! This is the first fanfiction that I've done, so I hope you like it! This first chapter was basically just the last episode of Fullmetal Alchemist, all quotes are disclaimed. I'm sorry to say that updates will not be often and kind of random. I'll try to work on them as often as I can though! Thank you.

Michi P.


	2. Meetings

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling, and various publishers including but not limited to Scholastic and Bones.

* * *

**Meetings**

Harry Potter clutched the black-clad arm of Albus Dumbledore tightly as they finished their second Apparition of the evening. The uncomfortable pressure pressing on his body from all sides relented and he sucked in a large mouthful of humid July air. Emerald green eyes opened themselves and he quickly unlatched his arm from the old man's.

They made an odd pair: a tall, old-looking silver-haired man wearing a pointed hat and a black traveling cloak, and an almost sixteen-year old teenager with an untidy mess of black hair and thick glasses, wearing a pair of extremely baggy jeans and an even baggier shirt.

The two stood in front of what seemed like an ordinary apartment building, probably at the outskirts of London. Harry was a bit putout; after visiting Slughorn's -- what had Dumbledore called it? Oh yes – "charming village of Budleigh Babberton," he was expecting something more…extravagant. Surprising. Anything more than this muggle apartment. "Er, Professor, what exactly are we doing here?"

Dumbledore caught his blank look and chuckled. "Harry, I have my reasons for coming to this place tonight. We have someone to, ah, pick up." The old man swept up the front steps, pressing on a buzzer for Apartment #5. They waited for several seconds before they heard a speaker come to life.

"Dumbledore? Is that you?" a weary voice said somewhat consciously. The man's voice carried a foreign accent, one that Harry could not place.

"Hoenheim, my good friend, nice to talk to you again," Dumbledore said heartily. A sigh was heard on the other end. Dumbledore turned around to look at Harry and gave him a small smile before returning his attention to the speaker.

"Alright, come on up." A beep was heard and the two could hear the wooden door unlock briefly.

"Quick Harry, up you go." Dumbledore ushered the teenager inside.

"Professor," Harry said as he was herded up several flights of stairs, "what are we doing here?" His question was politely ignored for a second time. "Where is here, exactly? Are you looking for a new teacher or something? Did someone else at Hogwarts leave? Who ---?"

"All of your questions will be answered in due time, Harry. Ah, here we are." Dumbledore hooked a finger around the collar of the teen's blue t-shirt before he could continue going up another flight of stairs. The pair stood in front of a maroon door with a black plate underneath a knocker, on which a large number "5" and the word "Elric," probably a last name, was inscribed with gold leaf. Dumbledore reached a hand (Harry noticed that he used his left hand instead of his right one, which was black and withered from an unexplained event) and grasped the knocker, clanging it twice.

A different voice than before, younger but still a bit deep, yelled "Got it!" in the same unfamiliar accent as the Hoen-something person. Unmatched footsteps shuffled to the door before it was slowly opened.

Standing beside the door was a small…boy? Teenager? Harry did not know which. He stood about five feet tall, dressed in dark muggle clothes, with long golden-blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and wide amber eyes. Harry gave him a confused look; judging by the person's voice, he sounded about the same age as Harry, but his (lacking) height told him otherwise. The person in front of him caught his nonplussed look and a twitch formed in his temple. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a large hand on his shoulder.

"Edward, don't do anything rash." A tall man with glasses wearing business attire stepped into the doorway and gave a tired grin to Dumbledore and Harry. He had a darker shade of blonde hair, with a neatly-trimmed beard and moustache adorning his pleasant face. "Please come in." He stepped back inside and gestured for the two on his doorstep to enter. Harry thought he heard the boy cursing under his breath as he strode unevenly to a swinging door leading to the kitchen, obviously still trying to keep his anger caused by something only heaven knew in check.

The room in which they entered was a sitting or living room of some kind. There was a boxy, unpolished wooden couch with forest green cushions on them and two maroon single-seaters of the same kind faced the couch. A wooden coffee table was set in between them with a few magazines spread out neatly on the surface. A good-sized TV set standing in front of the coffee table was set to the evening news. Their host motioned for them to sit down on the green couch.

"Are you thirsty, Dumbledore? Potter --- is it? --- want a drink?" the man before them asked.

"No thank you, Hoenheim. We must be on our way as soon as business is done here," Dumbledore politely declined before Harry even had a chance to say anything. "We are expected elsewhere as well, you know."

Hoenheim sighed then shrugged. He pulled a wand out of a pocket and twitched his hand, summoning a glass from the kitchen filled with water. "Now then, to business. When you sent me the owl, Albus…I must tell you the truth, I have no idea where we're going with this. What is it that you want?"

Dumbledore, Harry noticed, was still smiling slightly. "I would like your son Edward to join us at Hogwarts this year, Hoenheim." Harry and Hoenheim both stared at the old man. "I have a feeling that your son has a talent for magic. He will be joining the sixth year, of course." Harry's jaw dropped. If he was joining his year…that meant…

"Bloody hell." Harry muttered. "He's sixteen?"

Hoenheim coughed slightly, glancing first toward Dumbledore, who was playing with his sleeve, then to the kitchen door. "Um, yes." He lowered his voice to a whisper so quiet that Harry, who was sitting in front of him, had to lean forward and strain his ears. "He _is_ kind of small for his age. I mean—" Before he could get another word in, the kitchen door slammed open and both Harry and Hoenheim jumped in surprise. Dumbledore continued to examine his sleeve's hem, uninterested in any other conversations going on in the room. The two slowly turned their heads to the door, and quickly sat up straight again, trying to look innocent.

Edward stood in the doorway, glowering at everyone in the living room, even Dumbledore. Harry was pretty sure that if looks could kill, he would have been Aveda Kedavra'd at least ten times over. Suddenly, the blonde-haired boy looked much taller than before. Hoeneheim laughed nervously.

"Um, h-hello Edward. I…I had no idea that you were, um, there." Harry would have laughed at the entirely lame excuse if he didn't feel the deadly aura emanating from the teenager.

Hoenheim spoke again, trying to make up for his excuse, which sounded so incredibly…stupid he was surprised it came out of his mouth. "Uh, what I mean is —"

"I know exactly what you mean and I know exactly what you said, so stop trying to make a fool of yourself!" Edward snapped, still red in the face. Hoenheim looked up at him, confused.

"Is that all?" he asked cautiously. Harry could only imagine how damaging Edward could be when he was angry, if this was a minimum.

Edward sighed and sat down in the chair beside him. "For now, yes." Hoenheim shrank back in his seat as far away from his son as possible as an evil smile turned on him. "But don't think I won't do anything later."

Harry shivered and suddenly felt sorry for the man, who had gone pale and was shaking in his seat, probably trying to avoid thinking of the horrors that would come.

Edward's face became pleasant as he turned towards Dumbledore. He hesitated before extending his left hand towards the old wizard in a handshake, which Dumbledore happily returned. He then turned toward Harry offering the same hand, which Harry took with a bit of hesitation while introducing themselves.

"As you probably heard earlier," Dumbledore began with a small wink, turning attention onto himself, "I would like for you to enroll at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. I believe it would be very beneficial for both your education and safety."

Edward sighed tiredly, rubbing his forehead before answering. "Professor Dumbledore, I am very grateful for the invitation, but I'm not sure I would do very well in your school." At Dumbledore's questioning glance, he continued. "I mean, I thank you for your offer, but I'm a scientist. I have a task to accomplish and many things to do beforehand. School would just get in the way of that. Plus, I've never really had a proper education before, especially not in magic. I would be far behind everybody else in my year —," golden eyes looked pointedly at Harry, "— and I —" He was cutoff by Dumbledore.

"Don't worry Edward. Believe me when I say that you will be all caught up. After all, I do not miss these kinds of things. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that your education in alchemy has been exchanged for the ability to do magic when —"

"When I passed through the Gate, right?" Edward said quietly. Harry who had been watching in silence, was now utterly confused. _Gate? What gate?_

"Correct," Dumbledore answered. "There is also a concern for your safety. According to a reliable source, Voldemort is looking for a way to gain access to your world. Your father, I'm sure, has already told you about Voldemort. He plans on taking over Amestris to forcing the alchemists there to serve him." Edward turned pale. "He knows who you are and where you're from. As I'm sure you already know, he will stop at nothing to get to you. Hogwarts will give you the protection that you need."

If it had been any other person talking about 'Amestris' or whatever it was, Harry would have thought him insane and advise him to seek professional help. Seeing as this was Dumbledore, however, made everything entirely different. Before his head exploded, he interrupted Dumbledore hastily before he could continue.

"Excuse me, sir? Sorry to interrupt, but —?" Harry stopped talking when Dumbledore looked at him. Blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles turned to look at Edward inquisitively, who shrugged. Taking this as a go ahead, Dumbledore turned back to Harry.

"Amestris is a nation-state on a world parallel to ours where Edward and Hoenheim are from. The form of magic there is something called alchemy. It is the science of transmuting matter into different matter through the use of transmutation circles, keeping in mind the rule of Equivalent Exchange, the foundation of alchemy. 'Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.'

"The Gate is the source for all alchemic power. It can be found inside every human being on the opposite side of the Gate and is called forward when there is a weak link between body, mind, and soul. Edward and Hoenheim were transported to this side of the Gate by their own reasons, and according to Equivalent Exchange, by losing their ability to do alchemy here, they have gained the ability to cast magic. They have been searching for a way to return to their home. That, however, does not seem likely to happen soon —" he looked pointedly at Edward, who turned his head and gave a 'hmph!' "—so we would like him to join us at the school."

Hoenheim turned pleadingly toward his son. "Please, Edward. This is for your own good. You'll be able to be around people your own age for once, instead of being cooped up here with me!"

"Lord knows how much I hate that," Edward muttered sarcastically.

"Please?"

"Fine." A sigh. Then "I'll go get packed then."

Dumbledore rose to his feet with another small smile on his face. "Why don't you have Harry go with you, Edward? You two should get to know each other. After all, you'll be going to the Weasley family with him for the remainder of the summer."

Both Edward and Harry started, but they followed the old man's orders.

As the two teenagers trudged to Edward's room, Harry once again heard the uneven steps of the person in front of him. _Why is one footstep louder than the other?_ He wondered. Harry wanted to ask where the unevenness was from, but could not decide whether it would be considered too rude.

"You're wondering where this is from, I take it?" Edward patted his left leg, emphasizing his awkward walking. He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned his head to look back at Harry.

"Er, yes, actually, I am. Not to be rude or anything," Harry added quickly. The other teenager's head turned back to look where he was going.

"Hn. Should be used to it by now. After all…" Edward stopped in front of a door in the dim hallway. "Don't be too surprised by what you see in here, got it?" Harry nodded and the he turned the doorknob to his bedroom before kicking the door open roughly and stepping inside. "Damn door. Always getting stuck. Hell to it all," Edward muttered darkly. Harry laughed before entering himself. He stopped.

"What the bloody hell?" he exclaimed. The dark-painted walls of the room were decorated all over with strange circles of some kind, drawn in bright white chalk. A small antique-looking desk looked dangerously close to collapsing with all the thick books on it. _Hermione would have a field day_, he thought, staring at the books as if it were the plague. "That cannot be healthy. You ought to do something about that." Edward snorted. Harry continued to look around the room, taking in the unfixed bed ("Sorry 'bout that."), the bursting closet doors ("Stupid bastard trying to spoil me. I swear that father is going to kill me one day.") and a tall metal stand in the corner holding what appeared to be…

"Oh my god! What are those, arms?" Harry was suddenly glad that Dumbledore refused the drinks offered by Hoenheim. Edward grinned sheepishly, pulling a hand out of his pocket to rub the back of his head.

"Um, yeah. Those are arms. There should be some legs there too." Edward nearly laughed at the green expression on Harry's face. "Chill. They're spares." He walked casually and plucked an arm from the stand and handed it to Harry, who felt the rubbery flesh-colored material covering something hard and heavy.

"What is this?" Harry asked. At the end of the arm was a metal knob and several screws.

"This is a pathetic parallel universe version of automail," Edward stated haughtily. "And the best that my father can make here at the moment, just in case something happens to my original automail." Catching Harry's confused look he added "It's like this world's version of prosthetic limbs, just more technologically advanced, and more pronounced side effects and a longer rehab time. I was completely surprised when it came through the Gate with me; I was expecting it to be taken away when I passed through."

"Why's that?" Harry inquired.

"After all, it was supposed to be payment for bring —" Edward cut himself off before he could continue, and his eyes grew dark. _I'm not ready to tell anyone yet about what we did, Alphonse,_ he thought to himself. "Never mind," he said loudly, closing the subject. "It doesn't matter." Harry shrugged, curious, but he let it go and began to help Edward pack his things.

* * *

Edward Elric stumbled but was caught by Harry before he face-faulted to the ground. He grunted his thanks before straightening his shirt and turning to Dumbledore. 

"What the hell was _that_?" he sputtered.

"That was a side-along Apparition you just did. Actually, I believe you and Harry will be learning how to Apparate later on this year."

"Well, _I_ believe that I would _love_ never to do that Apparate thing again. Ever." Edward said queasily.

Harry, who was getting quite used to the feeling, laughed at Edward, who looked about ready to hurl whatever he ate for dinner.

Both boys caught their breaths and took in their surroundings. They were standing on a country lane that led to a crooked building that seemed to defy the laws of gravity. There were several stories that looked as if each story was stacked one on top of the other as time went on. Edward heard Harry exclaim excitedly and saw his face light up extremely fast.

"If you don't mind, Harry," Dumbledore called to the boys who had just stepped through the wooden gate, "I'd like a few words with you before we part. In private." He gave an apologetic smile to Edward. "Perhaps in here?"

Edward watched as Dumbledore led a puzzled Harry into a stone shed before leaning against a fence post to wait for the other two.

* * *

By wand-light, Dumbledore and Harry were well into their conversation. 

"There are only two people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort, and they are both standing in this smelly, spidery broom shed," Dumbledore said, wrinkling his long nose to prove his point. "It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you.

"Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?"

"No," Harry admitted.

"A wise decision, on the whole," agreed Dumbledore. "Although I think you ought to relax it in favor of your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, and one other who I hope will be a friend soon, Mr. Edward Elric." Harry opened his mouth but Dumbledore interrupted. "I know you do not know him very well yet, but trust me when I say that his friendship will be a valuable asset to you and any…future activities."

"Sir, if you believe that it well help, I will tell Edward about the prophecy and everything in whole," said Harry. "But I'm not sure whether he trusts me with his story. He's hiding something, I know it."

"Ah, but Harry, keep in mind that Mr. Elric will need time to adjust to this place," Dumbledore explained. "He is alone in this world save for his father, and as you can see, they are not quite on good terms with each other. Albeit his story is an interesting and heartbreaking one, there is an understandable reason for him not to disclose this information." He paused before he continued. "You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away."

Harry winced at the mention of his late godfather and stayed silent. Dumbledore began to speak again. "On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year." Harry was startled and began to ask something before he was cut off. "I will be teaching you things that I do not wish to discuss here, even in the confines of this broom shed. You never know, Harry, you never know."

Dumbledore made to open the door when he looked back at Harry and said, "One final thing before we join Mr. Elric outside, Harry. I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?"

On this final note, Dumbledore opened the door of the cramped space they occupied and stepped out, strolling over to Edward who was leaning restlessly on a fencepost. Harry followed.

"While you two stay here, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly – Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Edward – all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is for your safety, Harry and Edward. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them." He glanced casually at Harry, who took the hint.

"I understand, Professor," he said quickly. Edward nodded his agreement.

"Very well, then," Dumbledore said. "I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin the two of you are."

* * *

**A/n:** There will be many quotes from this story from both Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (owned by J.K. Rowling) and Fullmetal Alchemist (owned by Hiromu Arakawa). I just want to say now that these quotes belong rightfully to their owners, I'm disclaiming them. Thank you!

Michi P.


	3. PostMidnight Conversations

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling, and various publishers including Scholastic and Bones.

* * *

**Post-Midnight Conversations**

Harry, Edward, and Dumbledore walked to the back entrance of the Burrow. It was silent, save for a cricket here and there and the three taps Dumbledore gave to the opaque window. A dark shape moved to the window.

"Who's there?" a hesitating voice called out. Harry recognized the speaker to be Mrs. Weasley. "Declare yourself!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat before he replied. "It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry and Edward."

Mrs. Weasley gave a gasp and pulled back the door at once. "Oh dears! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!" She smoothed the wrinkled green dressing gown that she had thrown over her nightdress. She gave a slightly frazzled smile to Harry and Edward, who returned it.

"We were lucky Molly," Dumbledore said while gesturing for both boys to enter the house. "Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected, thanks to Harry, of course. Although we did spent quite some time, an hour at least, at Hoenheim's place."

Edward grinned sheepishly but his face turned quickly to a scowl as Mrs. Weasley said, "Ah, yes, Hoenheim! He's such a dear, really, so nice and polite."

"You've met him?" Edward asked.

"Yes, Edward. I met him last Tuesday with the rest of the Order," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Ugh, that bastard!" Edward muttered furiously. "He told me he was going to buy some groceries!"

"Language, Mr. Elric," Dumbledore said almost sternly. "He was on my orders. We needed to know about you two, and he needed to know about us."

Mrs. Weasley, obviously a bit put out that such a pleasant man was called such an unpleasant word, by his son no less, said "Well come in, out of the door. Tonks is already here."

"Hello, Professor," Tonks greeted from the kitchen table. She looked ill, both Harry and Edward noted. Her skin was pale and drawn and the smile was fixed. "Wotcher, Harry. I'm Tonks, Edward. Nice to meet you," She said almost crudely, but Edward took her hand anyway, excusing the direct introduction to her probable illness.

"I'd better be off," she said, standing up. Tonks tugged on a dark violet cloak and levitated her mug to the sink while she pushed her chair under the table. As she neared the door, she called over her shoulder to Mrs. Weasley. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account. I cannot stay," Dumbledore said. "I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

"No, no, I need to get going," insisted Tonks, who stood by the door staring at some unnoticeable stain on the hardwood floor. "Nice meeting you, Edward. 'Night."

Tonks closed the door behind her and they all heard a pop! as she Apparated a few feet from the door.

"I must be off, then," Dumbledore said. "I shall see you at Hogwarts, Harry and Edward. Take care of yourself. Molly, your servant."

He bowed out the door and walked out, Apparating at the same spot as Tonks. Mrs. Weasley walked to the door and shut it quietly. She turned around, grabbed both boys by the shoulders, and walked them closer to the dim lantern that occupied the center of the kitchen table.

"Harry, you're like Ron," she said with a sigh. "Both of you look as though you've had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron's grown four inches since I last bought him school robes." Harry grinned at Mrs. Weasley. Ed, however, developed a strange tic in his forehead, but it disappeared when the woman enveloped him in a giant hug.

"And you, dear! You ask me if you _ever_ need anything, you hear? I want you to be comfortable. I apologize if you felt out of place a while ago; I know it's all new to you. I'm Molly Weasley, feel free to call me Molly or anything you like."

Edward nodded stiffly into her shoulder before she let go and gave Harry a hug too.

"Are you two hungry?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah, I am," said Harry, while Edward nodded again. They both realized that they skipped dinner.

"Sit down, I'll knock something up."

Both boys sat down and a ginger colored cat leaped delicately onto Harry's lap and began to purr.

"So Hermione's here?" he questioned happily. Crookshanks licked his hand, which Harry took as a sign to start rubbing him behind the ears.

"Oh yes, she arrived the day before yesterday," Mrs. Weasley replied as she tapped a pot filled with water with her wand. The pot flew to the stove and plopped down and the water promptly began to boil. "Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you for hours. Here you are –"

Another tap of her wand and the pot levitated slowly to the table and tilted, and two bowls of thick onion soup were served instantly to the boys.

Edward watched Harry as he continued to pet Crookshanks and spoon himself some soup with one hand. "My brother Alphonse loves cats," he said suddenly. Harry looked up to glance at Edward as Mrs. Weasley sat down across the table. "He used to keep them, even when I told him that we couldn't." Edward smiled slightly at his soup before digging in himself.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at the both of them and proceeded to watch Edward inhale his soup. "More, dear?" Edward nodded and the pot flew over again.

"So, Horace Slughorn's taking a job at Hogwarts, is he?" Harry nodded. "He taught Arthur and me. He was at Hogwarts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?" Harry shrugged. "I know what you mean. He was a big one to play favorites, that one. He looked over Arthur, didn't seem to think he was enough of a highflier. Well, that just shows you, even Slughon makes mistakes. I don't know whether Ron's told you in any of his letters – it's only just happened – Arthur's been promoted!

Harry swallowed and grimaced at the hot soup slipping down his throat. "That's great!" Edward smiled as well. "What position?"

"Well, Rufus Srimgeour has set up several new offices in response to the present situation, and Arthur's heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. It's a big job, he's got ten people reporting to him now!" Seeing the confused look on both Harry and Edward's soup and bread-filled faces, she continued quickly. "Well, you see, in all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. You can imagine the kind of thing – false protective potions and fake defensive spells. Well, in the main the perpetrators are just people like Mundungus Fletcher, who've never done an honest day's work in their lives and are taking advantage of how frightened everybody is, but every now and then something really nasty turns up. The other day Arthur confiscated a box of cursed Sneakoscopes that were almost certainly planted by a Death Eater. So you see, it's a very important job, and I tell him it's just silly to miss dealing with spark plugs and toasters and all the rest of that Muggle rubbish."

"Is Mr. Weasley still at work?" questioned Harry, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late…He said he'd be back around midnight…"

Mrs. Weasley and Harry turned their heads toward a large clock sitting at the end of the table, and Edward followed their gazes. It was a strange thing: instead of the usual two or three hands, there were nine, and each was engraved with what Edward presumed were the names of family members. In lieu of numbers were various places and actions, such as "Home" and "Work." All of the hands right now were pointing to the words "Mortal Peril."

The red-haired woman caught the boy's looks and said in obvious forced casualty, "The clock's been like that for a while now, ever since You-Know-Who came back into the open. I suppose everybody's in mortal danger now…I don't think it can be just our family…but I don't know anyone else who's got a clock like this, so I can't check. Oh!" Mrs. Weasley's face lit up and broke into a small smile as the hand bearing the name 'Mr. Weasley' on it snapped to "Traveling" and then immediately to "Home" before making its way back to join the other hands.

Mrs. Weasley stood up, brushing her hands off on her apron as a knock resounded on the back door. "Arthur, is that you?"

"Yes," came the tired and muffled reply. Mrs. Weasley opened the door a fraction of an inch before it was pulled shut by the person outside.

"Oh honestly Arthur, it's two o'clock in the bloody morning," Mrs. Weasley sighed exasperatedly. "Just come in, I know it's—"

"Molly," said the voice on the other side, a bit warningly, "you never know, I could be a Death Eater."

"Would a Death Eater have pulled the door closed if I opened the door like that?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

There was a silence before the person sighed. "Fine. But next time we _have_ to ask the questions. Good Lord, you haven't _forgotten_ the questions already, have you? Is that why you didn't want to ask? Or," he continued suspiciously, "Are you a Death Eater?"

"Goodness Arthur, but aren't you paranoid tonight! If you're so unsure I'll just ask the stupid question," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. She then gave a start, almost as if she just realized what she just said. She shot a hasty glance at the boys before turning back to face the door. "All right. What is your dearest ambition?"

"To find out how airplanes stay up." Mrs. Weasley nodded, and once again, she made to open the door, but this time Mr. Weasley kept a firm grip on the doorknob to keep it shut. "Molly! I've got to ask you your question first!"

"Arthur, really, this is just silly!"

"What do you like me to call you when we're alone together?"

Edward spewed out a mouthful of soup and hastily covered it up with a fake coughing fit into his napkin. Harry, meanwhile, felt himself grow red around the ears and neck. Both of them looked towards Mrs. Weasley at the door, who was staring back with the expression of a rabbit being stalked by a fox, her whole face bright red in mortification. Harry and Edward hurriedly turned back to their bowls and began making as much of a racket as they could, slurping their soup and clanging their spoons. Despite their efforts, though, both boys heard Mrs. Weasley whisper "Mollywobbles," into the crack of the doorway and Edward choked into his soup again.

"Correct," Mr. Weasley sang out. Obviously the embarrassment did not reach him. "Now you can let me in."

The door opened and in stepped a thin bespectacled man wearing an emerald green cloak, slightly balding at the top of his red-haired head. "I know you hate to do that Molly," he began as his wife helped him out of his cloak, "but it's Ministry procedure, I have to set an example. D'you have dinner? I'm starved!"

Mr. Weasley caught sight of Harry and Edward as he followed his nose towards the kitchen. "Harry! We didn't expect you until morning!" He rigorously shook hands with the teenager, and then wheeled around to Edward, who stood up hastily from the table. "And you must be Edward. Nice to meet you, just a pleasure."

"Thank you Mr. Weasley," Edward said. He opened his mouth to continue but caught a huge yawn, which he struggled to hide behind one hand. Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"Oh you poor dears! I completely forgot!" Mrs. Weasley bustled the two teenage boys to the stairs. "Up to bed now, you two are sharing Fred and George's room; you'll have it to yourself."

"Why, where are they?" Harry questioned.

"Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shops they're so busy," informed Mrs. Weasley. "I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Go on, dears, both of your trunks are already up there. Edward, Harry'll show you the way."

Edward nodded and Harry called a good night to Mr. Weasley before trudging up the winding stairs, followed by Edward. He walked into a bedroom on the second floor and turned a lamp on. Harry smirked before saying to Edward "It's almost as messy as your room, isn't it?"

Edward grinned slightly; indeed, it was. The slightly cramped room looked as if it was used as a short-term warehouse. Boxes were scattered and stacked haphazardly on the little amount of clear floor the bedroom had, and it faintly smelled like a cannon had been set off. Two beds were pushed against opposite walls, and the boys' trunks stood in front of them.

As they began to get ready for bed, Harry and Edward heard a light tapping on the windowpane. Turning, Harry exclaimed, "Hedwig!" and threw the windows open. In came a snowy white owl, with amber eyes and a small mouse in its beak. Hedwig flew to a white cage in the corner of the room and proceeded to eat her dinner. "Mrs. Weasley must have let her out when she got here."

Harry turned to look at Edward, who was just slipping a plain white shirt over his head, and for the first time he saw the automail the blonde had mentioned earlier. It was made entirely of steel and reflected the lamp's light all over the room, polished to perfection. At the elbow, Harry could see a gap between the forearm and upper arm; inside was a complicated spiral of red and blue wires. Edward's right shoulder was also made entirely of steel, with big bolts and screws.

"Does it…hurt?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

Edward turned his head slightly to look at him before turning back around and pulling on a pair of blue shorts. "Nah, not so much anymore. Only when I first got them—hurt like a bitch—and whenever I get my arm and leg adjusted and the nerves are reconnected. Rehabilitation time for getting automail takes _three years_." Edward turned around again and looked Harry straight in the eye, with an expression on his face that he couldn't name. "I was done with rehab after one."

Harry stared. How strong of a person would you have to be to cut down the length of a medical process by a third? "How?"

The blonde teenager looked toward the window and sighed. "Me and my brother, Alphonse, we had a goal that we _needed_ to reach. It was the thing we most wanted in the world. And Alphonse, well…he had a…condition, I guess you could say, and it was my fault that he had it. I was driven by a desire to get him—and me—back to the way we were. And a—" Edward struggled for a word. His last meeting with him had been on almost good terms, right? So technically, it would not be wrong to call him… "—a friend, Mustang, he offered me a job where I would basically get paid to do research for my own purposes, as long as I did what he told me to, once in a while. And that bastard, well, he did make me do a lot of stuff, but it was all good. I made a lot of friends while I was in the military." Edward got a faraway look in his eyes, reflecting back on a time that was taken away from him.

Edward was snapped out of his reverie as Harry spoke again. "Hold on, you were in the military?"

He shrugged. "It was the only way, really. I was a state alchemist, one of the youngest in the history of Amestris. Mustang was my superior officer, a colonel. He was a flame alchemist, could ignite anything as long as it wasn't wet. Completely useless in the rain, obviously. His right-hand man—woman, whatever—was Riza Hawkeye, First Lieutenant. Damn good with a gun, and followed him like a dog. And the subordinate officers, which included me—although technically I was above Hawkeye, since I was Major—Breda, Havoc (that player), Falman, and Fuery. We all had fun when we were together at Eastern Headquarters." Edward sighed before turning around to organize the wrinkled clothes in his trunk.

"Sounds like you had a pretty good life there," Harry said quietly. "You must miss it."

Edward froze before climbing onto his bed facing away from the other teenager and pulling the covers up over his head. "Yeah, I do," he said just as quietly. "I really do."

Harry stared for a moment at the blanket-covered back that was facing him then said, "Goodnight," before he switched off the lamp and settled under his own covers.

* * *

Somewhere, far away in a dungy muggle neighborhood, a hook-nosed, greasy-haired man sat in a dusty armchair, staring out of a grimy window. He held his head propped up on an arm, lost in his unknown thoughts.

There was a light rustling in a doorway to the man's left before a cloaked figure with long straight hair stepped into the room.

"We'll be leaving now, Severus," the woman said softly. "Draco will be wondering where I am."

The man stood up abruptly to lead her out, but another figure stepped out of the shadows and stood between the woman and the man named Severus.

"We don't need your assistance to show us to your door, Snape," the second figure, also a woman, said with a hint of malice in her voice. Then, quietly to the smaller woman behind her, "Cissy, gather your things and wait for me on the front step."

The younger woman began to walk toward the front hall before turning back and seizing Snape's hand. "Thank you so, so much. Draco—my only son—you are doing so much for him, and—"

"Enough, Narcissa. I only hope the Dark Lord will suspect nothing when the time comes. He fully intends for Draco to do the task, not me, and unless it looks like I interfere by chance, the Dark Lord will have no protest against the matter. Now go," Snape said, leading her toward the door before turning back to the second woman.

She walked up to him, looked him square in the eye, and said coldly, "If you do anything, _anything_, that betrays Narcissa, us, or the Dark Lord, I will have your head. You swore under the—"

"Bellatrix," Snape said coolly, "I remember everything I swore, there's no need to remind me. It was only a few hours ago, after all. Now please leave my house before I hex you."

Bellatrix threw a scathing glare over her shoulder at Snape while she strode toward the door before slamming it. The sound reverberated through the small, fairly empty house. Distinctly, Snape heard two pops, and he looked out the window to see no one under the streetlight that occupied the sidewalk in front of his house.

Snape turned on his heel, causing his cloak to billow out behind him. He once again sat in the armchair in front of the window, and proceeded to rethink the evening's events.

On his right arm, three snake-like burn marks, the telltale sign of one under the Unbreakable Vow, began to fade away into nothingness.

* * *

**A/n:** Thanks for all the reviews! I was so happy when I received them (I still am, actually). I replied to every review (except anonymous) and I hope you got them. I really appreciate them all!

For those who noticed, a couple of the next few chapters will be a lot of the same dialogue as the Half-Blood Prince book, with a few additions and changes here and there. I disclaim all these quotes, they belong to J.K. Rowling and Hiromu Arakawa.

Thank you to:

**Renneh**: You were the first to review! Thank you so so much.

**princessOFdarkness, hyperdude, AirElemental101, nightmare70, TruthOfSelf, Suuki-Aldrea, MysticMaiden 18, Roy-Fan-33, hikaranko, LachwenII, Demon Lord Sesshomaru, EdElricRules, **and** Harryswoman**: All of your reviews are very much appreciated. Thank you! Please keep reading, hope you enjoy!

**anon- sorry**: Thanks for the great review. I would have replied to your review, but I didn't know where to send it to! Sorry! Enjoy!

And to all those who added this story to their alerts, favorites, and C2s, thanks:bows: I'm so happy.

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Please look forward to the next one.

Michi P.


	4. Introductions, Memoirs, and Quidditch

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling, and various publishers including Scholastic and Bones.

* * *

"Mum! Mu-um!" called Ronald Weasley as he ran quickly down the stairs. He was in a great rush: his bright orange-red hair was sticking out all over, his Chudley Canons T-shirt was wrinkled and half-on, and his freckled face was turning pink from his early morning 'exercise.' He jumped over the last railing of the stairs and bolted towards the open doorway of the kitchen.

Ron paused briefly in front of the stove where a colorful omelet, a few strips of bacon, and sausage sizzled unattended, flipping over automatically every few minutes. The lanky teenager inhaled deeply, enhanced at the sight of food as any ordinary teenage boy would be.

"Mmm, smells good." He then shook his head and snapped back to the task of finding his mother. "Hey, Mum? Mum! MU—"

Ron was cut off as he walked head-on into a closet door that opened abruptly to his right. Mrs. Weasley, who was pulling out a few big pots, pans, and other various kitchen utensils, stepped out. "Ron, was that you, dear?"

"Ow," her son moaned as he pulled himself out from behind the door.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, overlooking the fact that she could have just broken his nose. "What are you doing up so early? It's only seven!"

"God, Mum," Ron muttered, clutching his face. "Could you watch were you're going please?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I'm sorry dear. I've just been so distracted lately, with all that's going on, Fred and George in Diagon Alley, Harry arriving early this morning—"

"Harry's here?!!" the red-head exclaimed excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Wha—?" a flustered Mrs. Weasley began, but Ron had already dashed for the stairs.

"Hermione! Hermione?" Once again, Ron began a hide-and-seek game. He cast a quick glance at the door second-floor bedroom where one of his best friends was currently sleeping. _Lazy_, he thought as he continued up another flight of stairs.

"Hermione!" Ron burst through a door on the third floor of the crooked Burrow. Immediately, shrieks filled the air.

"Oh my God, Ron! Shut the door, you idiot!"

"Ron, so help me, I'm gonna' hex you into next week!"

Ron squeaked a "Bloody hell!" as he quickly shut the door and heard the thud of a spell hit the wood. "Sorry, sorry!" he yelled miserably. His ears and face were aflame as he leaned against a wall and slid down, his head on his arms. "Oh, my God. I did _not_ just see that," he muttered. "Must learn to knock. Must learn to knock," Ron repeated over and over. He was still saying it a minute later as a bushy-haired brunette with a disgruntled look on her face opened the same door and stepped out into the hallway.

"You got that right, you dolt." Ron's head shot up to stare at his other best friend, Hermione. Immediately his face reddened again. "Oh, and you better watch out, by the way. Ginny's out for your head."

"Oh great," Ron griped. "This is turning out to be a bloody fantastic morning. Mum almost broke my nose with a closet door, my little sister's gonna' _kill_ me—" an evil little grin made its way across his freckled face. "—I just saw one of my best friends in polka-dotted underwear…" Ron let this dangle suggestively in front of Hermione's face.

It took her a moment, but when Hermione realized that he meant _her_ underwear she shrieked again. "You _peep_!" She went to whack him on the head, but Ron flapped his long arms to protect himself.

"I was joking! _Joking_! Hermione, stop it! Aarrgghh!! Wait, Harry! He's here! Don't you want to see him? Ouch, Hermione!"

After one more thwack to the head, Ron broke away from Hermione and proceeded to bound down the stairs to the second floor. "C'mon Hermione! I was just kidding," he called over his shoulder. "But Harry's still asleep and we have to get him up!"

"Wait, Ron, I don't think—" Hermione began, but the teenager had already kicked open the door with a resounding bang.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" she heard him yell inside the room. She entered the doorway just in time to see Ron hit a black-haired teenager who was blinking his eyes tiredly and reaching for a pair of glasses on a side table.

"Ron, don't hit him!" Hermione scolded. "Honestly, did you just assume that I would do Harry's homework if he lost brain cells due to trauma to the head? I don't think so."

"Yeah, whatever, Hermione," Ron said distractedly. He unearthed one of Harry's arms and tugged. "Come on, Harry!"

"I'm up! I'm up!" Harry waved his best mate's hands away and stretched.

"All right, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Never been better," he replied. He caught the look she gave him, one of scrutiny, probably trying to figure out how he was feeling about Sirius Black's death. The last time he had seen her was right after his godfather's murder, after all. He looked away quickly to avoid questioning and Ron, clueless, interrupted the short, awkward silence.

"Were the Muggles all right? Did they treat you okay?"

"Eh, same as usual," Harry replied. "They didn't talk to me much, but I like it better that way. How're you, Hermione?" He looked up at her and noticed that she wasn't paying attention to him. "Er, Hermione?"

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "Who's that over there?" Both he and Ron looked to the other side of the room, where a still form lay completely engulfed in blankets, and Harry remembered the events of the previous night.

"Oh, that's Edward. Elric, I think. He's…" Harry struggled to tell his friends the situation but did not know how to. He didn't want to give away anything about Edward before the blond himself wanted to. "…He's visiting, I guess you could say. He'll be staying here and then he's gonna' be in sixth year at Hogwarts, with us."

"Is that even allowed?" Hermione asked. "I don't remember reading anything about foreign exchange students being allowed in _Hogwarts, a History_. Is he…I dunno'…here to help us?" she inquired, indicating the war being fought against the Dark Lord and his followers.

"I dunno'," Harry lied, "but—"

"Bloody hell, he sleeps like a log!" Ron exclaimed, distracted from their conversation by this 'amazing' fact. "We've been talking pretty loudly for the past five minutes and he hasn't moved at all!"

"Ron, maybe he's just tired, just leave him—"

"Oi! Hey you!" Ron yelled loudly, ignoring the brunette. "It's seven thirty in the bloody morning, wake up already!"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "Would you shut up? If I remember correctly, you don't usually wake up until eleven, you hypocrite."

The redhead ignored her again. "Hey! Can you hear me?"

Harry remembered something from the night previous, at Edward and Hoenheim's apartment that ticked off the blond. He beckoned Ron to come closer, and whispered something as quietly as he could into Ron's ear.

"That would work?" Ron asked incredulously. Harry nodded, green eyes alight, and Ron shrugged. "Well, if you say so. Oi! Pipsqueak!"

The lump under the covers twitched.

Ron's face broke out into a grin. "Bloody hell, well whaddya' know." He glanced over at Harry, who gestured for him to continue. Hermione squirmed uneasily from where she was perched at the foot of Harry's bed.

"HEY! PIPSQUEAK!"

The result was instantaneous. For the second time that morning, Ron feared for his life and hid behind Hermione as the person on the other side of the room sat up like lightning.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING A PIPSQUEAK?!!" the stranger yelled, obviously very aggravated. Although he was wearing a shirt, he clutched the blanket tightly over his body.

"He's bloody rabid!" Ron muttered. "Is he in denial or something?"

"No, I'm _not_ in denial, bastard, shut the hell up!" the blond teenager fumed.

"_You_ shut up, Shorty," a new voice spoke from the doorway. "I think the whole country just heard you."

Everyone looked towards the door to see a very pink-in-the-face, red-haired, freckle-faced girl, obviously Ron's little sister, and obviously in a very bad mood.

"Hey, Ginny," Harry said to her, a little surprised. Now he understood why Hoenheim sounded like the Grim Reaper was out for his soul when he called Edward short the night before. "How're you?"

"Just bloody peachy, how the bloody hell are you?" Ginny replied darkly. She slammed the door shut.

Hermione gained a sympathetic look on her face. "It's her again, isn't it?"

Ginny muffled a scream of aggravation behind her hands. "She's driving me _mad_!! I can't stand it anymore! I just can't!" She then turned back to the stranger. "And who are _you_, anyway?"

The blond stayed silent for such a long time that Ginny almost repeated her question. "Edward Elric," he finally said calmly, quietly, a great contrast to his last sentence. "And you all are…?"

Harry spoke up. "These are some of my friends from Hogwarts, Edward. This is Ronald Weasley," Ron raised a hand in acknowledgement, "and over there is his little sister, in fifth year at Hogwarts, Ginny." She smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of her head. That's Hermione," Hermione gave Edward a little grin and a wave. "We're all in Gryffindor House."

"Oh, right, housing. Dumbledore said something about being sorted on the first day of school. What's the sorting process anyway?" he asked.

"Oh!" began Hermione. "It's not that big of a deal, really, just—"

"Battling a full-sized mountain troll with nothing but your wand," Ron cut in, smirking. Man, he was going to have fun fooling around with this kid. "Trust me, it's pretty bloody easy, s'long as you know how to levitate objects so you can knock the brute out with its own club."

Both Harry and Hermione laughed at this, thinking back to their first year at Hogwarts, when a mountain troll had 'broken in' to the school on Halloween.

Edward laughed a bit too, a bit nervously, unable to tell whether Ron was joking or not. "Eh…sounds like fun."

"So, Harry," Hermione said interestedly. "Where are you from?"

Edward froze and glanced over at Harry. Harry shrugged then nodded. "They need to know," he said quietly. "I think it's for the best."

Edward sighed and raked his left arm through his hair, releasing his clutch on the blanket that he held over his right shoulder. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all gasped when they saw the morning sunlight captured by the lustrous shine of his steel arm.

"You all are going to have to take my word on everything I say, 'cause it's true. I know it's unbelievable but it happened. A couple of months—no, weeks—ago, Edward Elric did not exist. Not in this world, anyway. I used to live in a parallel-universe to here, where instead of magic there's a science called alchemy."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Ron. "Isn't that the thingy that Nicholas Flamel was working on like five hundred years ago, with the eternal life and metal into gold stuff?"

"If I remember correctly from my texts," Edward answered, "your version of 'alchemy' isn't the same. The alchemy developed here was solely for the purpose of transmuting basic metals into gold, and it was thought it was just a branch of magic. In my world, however, alchemy is a _science_. There are methods, rules, and teachings that must be learned to execute alchemy, and if they're known one can transmute anything into something else, as long as the materials used are the same and equal."

Harry nodded. "I remember. The basic law of alchemy, right? To obtain, something of equal value must be lost."

"Exactly," confirmed Edward. "I came here through this thing called the Gate when…well, that's not really important right now. A couple of years ago my brother and I did—well, I guess you could call it the taboo of alchemy—and we had to pay a toll to the Gate for it. I paid with my left leg, my brother paid with his entire body." Edward paused for a minute, ran a hand through his long blonde hair, and sighed. He continued, "My right arm was taken away from me when I took my brother's soul back from the Gate, and I attached it to a suit of armor. Our family friends and neighbors, the Rockbells, owned an automail shop where I was fitted with my fully functional prosthetic arm and leg. And as I told Harry last night, they don't hurt (I know they look like it, Hermione, but it really doesn't) at all except when I first got them and when the artificial nerves are reconnected. I did rehab for a year, and then joined the military as the youngest state alchemist ever certified. My brother and I eventually discovered the rumors about the philosopher's stone, an alchemic amplifier. We believed that it would help us get our original bodies back. My commander, Colonel Roy Mustang, basically let us travel around as much as we wanted, gathering information about the stone, as long as we reported back to Central Headquarters every once in a while, gave him our discoveries, and let him boss us around for the assignments he was too lazy to do."

"What does any of that have to do with how you got here though?" Ron asked.

"Everything," Edward replied. "During my first assignment as a state alchemist, Alphonse, that's my brother's name, and I met the homunculi, artificial human beings with no soul, created through human transmutation. The first three we met (although at the time we didn't know they were homunculi) were Lust, Gluttony, and Envy. The seven homunculi we fought against were named after the seven deadly sins: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride.

"We kept running into the Homunculi for two years after that. Apparently they were searching for the Philosopher's Stone as well. They helped us discover that the only known way to create the Stone was to sacrifice the lives of other innocent people." Edward swallowed thickly and a shudder went down his spine.

Harry felt a chill go down his as well. He caught the looks that Hermione and Ron gave each other. Ron looked queasy and both Hermione and Ginny were pale. It was like they were all listening to a horror story.

Edward proceeded with his story. "Even now I can't believe it. The homunculi wanted to give the stone to their boss, although one of them wanted to truly use it to turn herself into a real human. But the point is the homunculi were willing to kill countless people to get their hands on this Stone. They infiltrated the military. In fact, the fuehrer of our government was the Homunculus Pride, but no one knew until the very end.

"A couple months after we first met the homunculi, we also met a man whom the military called Scar. He was wanted for the murder of numerous alchemy users in the military. He was an Ishbalan, a race of people in my world who were considered to be pariahs. The Ishbalan religion forbids the use of alchemy, and any and all who were caught transmuting were exiled from their own people. Scar was one of these people, because he killed alchemy users with alchemy.

"In an attempt to mass-murder a military unit, he turned a whole city into a transmutation circle. Before activating it, however, he saved Alphonse, who's armor was transforming into an explosive compound. Scar then used the transmutation circle, and Alphonse absorbed the lives of Scar and the military officers caught in the circle."

"Wait a minute," Hermione interrupted, face furrowed in serious concentration. "You said before that the Philosopher's stone was created by the sacrifice of human lives. Does that mean—?"

"Yeah, it does," the blonde confirmed. "Alphonse was turned into the Philosopher's Stone."

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured.

"As you can imagine, we became a liability to everybody. I quote Lust when I say this, but we became fugitives—from _everyone_. We kept low for a bit, while rumors about how the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother were now working with the homunculi circulated within the military. This was a load of bull that was spewed from Pride, and during a fight with Sloth, we were distracted by her death and Alphonse was kidnapped by Envy. In then end I defected from the military completely to go find them and my brother.

"I found them in the basement of an abandoned Church. I discovered that a woman named Dante was the immortal leader of the Homunculi, and that she had the ability to move her soul to different bodies. My father, apparently, also has this special _talent_," Edward said coolly. "They were lovers a long time ago and when Hoenheim almost died Dante saved him by transporting his soul to another body. Since then they have been able to do it repeatedly, but their souls are weakening and their bodies no longer last as long as they would like. Hoenheim has accepted this fate and does not plan on switching bodies anytime soon.

"Dante, however, was eager to strengthen her soul. She was manipulating the Homunculi into getting the Stone for her all the while telling them that she would help them turn human. Lust is dead now, because her desire to become human was too strong. She betrayed the others and was killed for it. Gluttony is probably dead as well. I have no idea what happened to Envy or Wrath, but I asked one of my friends to take care of Wrath since he was still a little child. Winry's probably fixed him up with some automail by now, since he lost some limbs in the fight. As for Pride, well…I left his fate to Mustang, and if I know Mustang, Pride's probably charred and unrecognizable in the basement of his own home."

"Wait, what happened to Greed and Sloth?" Ginny asked, confused.

Edward stiffened again. "I killed Greed a couple months prior to all the military and Fuehrer crap. First person whose life I ever ended."

Harry was about to ask about Sloth but thought the better of it. Edward probably left that particular Homunculi out for a reason.

"Anyway, after I found the Homunculi in the Church Dante set out to destroy all my beliefs by trying to tell me some shit about how Equivalent Exchange is nonexistent and a stupid idea to begin with anyway. She then took the liberty of sending me through the Gate for the first time. I ended up in this world's London, I believe, around World War I. I wasn't even in my own body, but in the one of my counterpart here. He was similar looking to me, and apparently his name was Edward too.

"Hoenheim was living with this Edward, and was surprised to find his real son's mind in the body of his adopted one. A zeppelin attack came upon the city and we escaped to a nearby countryside. Hoenheim left for a meeting with Winston Church-something-or-other and the Edward of London was killed when an out of control zeppelin crash-landed right on top of me. My soul was taken back to my world where I was killed ten minutes later by Envy with his friggin' spike arm through my chest.

"You were _killed_?" Harry asked incredulously. This was news. Usually the deceased didn't eat like a cow, sleep like the dead (actually, they did, but that wasn't the point), or sport a metal arm and leg.

"Well, yeah. From then on everything was sort of blurry. My soul was once again sent to the Gate, but since I was dead, I didn't go through. I was just sort of…there. Waiting to get condemned. Five minutes later I see Alphonse for a second before he disappears. Then Envy was there, and he went through the Gate to look for Hoenheim. Oh yeah, Envy was the son of Hoenheim and Dante, but he died of mercury poisoning and became the first Homunculus ever created when the two brought him back. Then Hoenheim left Dante and married my mother. Since then, Envy's had this grudge against both Hoenheim and me, and vowed to kill us both. He nearly succeeded with my death. And like I said before, I don't know where he is now.

"After I saw Envy I was blinded by a bright flash of light and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in the basement of the Church and my brother was gone. My real right arm and left leg were mine. Turns out my brother sacrificed himself and the Philosopher's Stone inside of him to bring me back to life. On a gamble, I risked my life to bring him back. I felt guilty that he had given his own life in return for mine. Little brothers shouldn't have to do that for their older brothers. I also felt that he needed another chance at life, since his imprisonment in that emotionless senseless suit of armor robbed him of a real one. I did the necessary transmutation and was transported to your time London. Hoenheim found me. And once again I was without my right arm and left leg. They were taken from me probably as payment for my brother. The Gate was generous enough, though, to give me back my automail.

"Hoenheim introduced me to Dumbledore a couple weeks ago and told me most of what's going on with you guys. He also tested the magic ability I have and it seems that I have a pretty good capability to do it. He invited me to Hogwarts and asked me to help you with Voldemort, and in return he would help me find away to reunite with my brother.

"But you know what just kills me? I've accepted this place, and even if Dumbledore _did _find a way to get me back to my world, I probably wouldn't even go if it weren't for the fact that I don't even know if my transmutation worked. For all I know, everything could have just went wrong and Alphonse is still at the Gate. All my sacrifices were all for him, yet they might not have given him anything. You never know what will happen with the Gate. And that's the thing that kills me."

"Edward," Hermione said softly. "I'm so very sorry. You and Alphonse must have been through so much and then…" She trailed off.

"If you need any help, just ask us," Ginny said with a kind smile on her face.

Ron whistled. "Ginny's right, Ed. That was some life story, mate."

Harry stayed silent. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't personally relate to any of Edward's past, but they were both alone, isolated, in the world.

The five teenagers were interrupted as someone barged in through the door. Both Harry and Edward pulled their blankets up to their chins.

"'Arry," the intruder said with a strong French accent. "Eet 'as been too long!"

As Edward's eyes traveled towards the door, they stopped on Harry and Ron's faces. The two were beet red and the redhead looked as if he were going to faint if he didn't take in a gulp of air very soon. His eyes ventured on and he saw Hermione and Ginny catch glances at Ron's peculiar expression and rolled their eyes. Edward looked towards the door.

The young woman holding the breakfast tray was very pretty, he had to admit, but she was nothing compared to a certain girl back home. She was tall and lean, and her long pale hair tied back with a simple periwinkle blue bow shimmered in the morning sun. A small but dazzling smile adorned her porcelain face; her sparkling blue eyes were alight. _Nah, this girl couldn't compete_, Edward thought.

Footsteps on the stairs went unexplained until Mrs. Weasley's face appeared in the door. "There was no need to bring up the tray, Fleur, I could have gone back down to fetch it after this one," she huffed. Edward thought she looked a bit peeved.

"Eet was no trouble," Fleur said. She walked—no, glided—over to Harry's bedside and placed the tray on his lap and proceeded to present him with a kiss to each cheek. Edward stifled a laugh as Harry's face turned even redder.

"Wh-what are y-you here for, Fleur?" Harry stuttered slightly. Edward snorted. Hermione and Ginny whipped their heads around to look at him and gave him approving nods when they saw he did not resemble a tomato and was capable of function and speech.

"Did no one tell you?" Fleur said, surprised. She turned to look at Mrs. Weasley, who shrugged and began to walk towards Edward with another tray. Fleur faced Harry again. "Bill and I are going to be married!"

_What's that gotta' do with her being here, though?_ Harry wondered. He stared amusedly at Harry as he struggled for a response.

"Wow. Er—Congratulations!" he finally managed.

Fleur smiled brilliantly—Harry looked as if he'd been blinded as Ron stared wistfully at them—and she kissed him again.

"Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very 'ard, and I've been work part-time at Gringotts for a couple of months for my Eenglish. He brought me 'ere to get to know 'is family properly," she said happily.

"That's, um, interesting," Harry said. Desperate to get her attention off him for at least a few minutes so he could get a hold of himself, he gestured to the blonde on the other side of the room. "Have you met, er, Edward yet, Fleur?"

"_Mais non!_" she said, spinning on her foot to look at Edward. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back on his pillows. "'Ow wonderful eet ees to finally meet you, Edward!"

"It's nice to meet you too, Fleur," said Edward, smoothly. His face remained passive as she bent down to give him a kiss on each cheek, and he caught the amazed stares of Ron and Harry.

"How can he be so comfortable?" Ron mouthed to Harry.

Fleur straightened and headed for the stairs. "'Ope you two enjoy your breakfast!" and she shut the bedroom door softly behind her. Once they heard her footsteps on the stairs Mrs. Weasley let out a frustrated sigh.

"Don't know what I'm going to do with those two, I keep telling them that they're rushing into things, they're way too—"

"Mum hates Phlegm," Ginny said wisely.

"I do not hate her!" Mrs. Weasley said hotly. "And don't call her that, it's rude!" She too, disappeared behind the door.

Edward suddenly burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just can't help it! You guys were too funny!"

Harry jumped up indignantly. "That's not fair, you can't say that you weren't affected by her either!"

"Actually," Hermione said, "he wasn't. Unlike _you_ two hormonal lumps who act like you're going to die whenever she walks through the door. It's pathetic."

"But why weren't you goggling after her anyway, Edward?" said Ginny suspiciously. She looked over at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they all shared a knowing grin. "Unless...you've already got someone in your own world?" she continued slyly.

"Wh-what?" Edward stammered, suddenly red-faced. "N-no, I don't, it's not like _that_, I mean, Winry's just a friend, and anyway—"

"A-ha!" Ron cut him off. "A name! So there _is_ a girl you like, and her name's Winry. How interesting." Edward smacked himself on the forehead for his stupidity.

"It's not interesting at all," Edward replied heatedly, voice muffled behind his hands. "Like I said before, she's a childhood friend, nothing more."

"Yeah, but look at him," Harry said to the others. "His face was bright red a minute ago, you can't believe him when he says something like that, can you?"

"He's right, Edward," Ginny said happily. "So, what does she look like?"

"Aw, lay off, will you?" the victim implored.

"Is she pretty?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," Edward muttered lowly.

"What's she look like?"

A sigh escaped Edward's lips. He might as well give in, they wouldn't give up if he didn't. Alphonse would have been amazed to see how open he was being with these people he just met.

"Long blonde hair, blue eyes, a bit taller than me—"

"Oh, she can't be that much taller then, can she?" Ron said wisely.

"What the—WHO ARE YOU CALLING SHORT, YOU BASTARD??!" Edward exploded.

Everyone in the room burst into laughter.

**_

* * *

_**

The five teenagers marched down the stairs laughing and chatting, fully dressed and ready to go.

"And you know what I said to him?" Edward said jovially. "I said, 'Let's go! This castle's gonna' explode soon." Alphonse was so surpised. He asked me why, and then I said 'I didn't like it so I destroyed a bunch of places.' Then we heard these two crashes from inside the castle and Alphonse was like 'Why do you always act without thinking?'"

"Yeah, why do you Edward?" asked Ron.

Edward continued, ignoring the redhead. "And I told him I can't undo what I already did, so let's go! This castle was situated on the worst possible location, it was like an island in the middle of nowhere. Hellish place to get to. Anyway, Alphonse can't swim because of his blood seal so we got onto this little capsule thing and set sail right as the castle collapsed and began to sink.

"It was just our luck that there was a hole in our makeshift boat, and we were trying to bail the water out. We only had one bucket, so I grabbed Alphonse's helmet and started bailing for my life. I said 'You idiot! Let go of me! We're going to drown!' Alphonse was crying like a baby. We almost died that day!" Edward chuckled.

"So what happened then?" Harry asked.

"Well, turns out that the bastard colonel was backing us up the whole time! He had a military boat and he came to save us. When Mustang was pulling us on board, he said to me 'I told you to just get the bomb, not decapitate the castle too. Trust the pipsqueak to do something like that!' I blew up in his face."

Everyone laughed and gathered around the kitchen table. When it died down, Harry thought about telling them about his conversation with Dumbledore from the night before but was interrupted as Mrs. Weasley barged in through the kitchen door. "Hey, you lot!" she gestured to Hermione, Ron, and Harry. There's three school owls coming right this way, I think they have your O.W.L results with them!"

Immediately, Hermione was alert.

"Oh yeah," Harry commented. "Dumbledore mentioned something about them coming today."

Hermione shrieked and turned to face Harry. "He did?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She rushed to the window where three dots in the distance where steadily getting bigger. Ron and Harry ran to the window to stand beside her.

Edward nudged Ginny. "What's got them so riled up?"

"O.W.L. results," Ginny replied. "Everyone takes this humongous test at the end of fifth year at Hogwarts, and results determine how eligible you are for a job. It's like an assessment."

"Oh, so it's like the State Certification Exam, kind of," Edward said thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Never mind."

Three tawny owls flew through the open windows and landed on the kitchen table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stumbled over each other in their haste to get to their owls. All three's hands were shaking and Hermione was moaning "Oh no…oh no…oh no…_oh no!_"

After what seemed like an eternity to Edward (_They act like someone's just friggin died_, he thought) the three finally managed to get their envelopes opened. They all sported a different expression on their faces. Harry looked relieved, and let out a held breath as he refolded his letter. Ron's face went from nervous to delighted as his eyes roamed down the page. Only Hermione looked crestfallen.

"Hermione," Ginny said quietly, "How did you do?"

"I—not bad."

"Oh, come off it," muttered Ron, exasperated. He grabbed her results. "Only ten 'Outstandings'? What happened Hermione? You're slipping!"

"I know," Hermione wailed. "I don't know what happened, I must have—" She stopped and looked everyone's faces.

"Hermione," Ron said blankly, "I was _kidding_. You _cannot_ tell me that you're actually disappointed with your results.'

Hermione shook her head no and everyone laughed.

"We're all N.E.W.T. students now," said Ron. "Let's play some Quidditch to celebrate!"

Shouts of agreement ensued and everyone but Edward ran out the door. "Wait, guys? Um, hold on a minute." Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's faces peeked through the door. "Isn't Quidditch that sport that's played on broomsticks with those balls that fly around in the air by themselves?" he asked.

Ron shared a look with Harry. "He's never played Quidditch before, has he?"

Harry nodded. "We might just have to fix that." The four of them began to walk towards Edward with conspiring looks on their faces. The blonde for the second time that morning found himself the victim of the teenagers. Harry and Ron each grabbed an arm while Hermione and Ginny took it upon themselves to push him towards the door from behind.

"Um, guys, I don't really think this is a good idea, I mean, c'mon—guys?! Hey! Help! Somebody help me!

The four marched Edward through the door with evil grins on their faces. "Edward's going to ride a broomstick, Edward's going to ride a broomstick," they chanted.

_**

* * *

**_

Mrs. Weasley was up in her bedroom, ironing some laundry. She looked outside her window just as a blonde blur sped past her window and slammed quite hard into the tree right next to the house. Startled, she bustled to the window and opened to find Edward sitting dazedly on a thick tree branch with a broomstick dangling below him.

"Edward, what in heaven's name—"

The blonde slowly turned to face Mrs. Weasley. "I hate Quidditch," he said before slumping against the trunk of the tree.

* * *

**A/n:** You know, there really is no excuse for taking so long with this chapter. Actually there is, but it would take too long to go find it. 

I'll just apologize. I'm sorry!

Once again, thank you for reading! I appreciate the reviews from the last chapter. Hope this one was enjoyable. There isn't a lot of progress in this chapter, but there is a lot of explaining and I know it probably got boring because of this. I attempted to put some humor in this chapter to keep it slightly interesting.

Next chapter I believe will take place in Amestris.

Again, thank you!

Michi P.


	5. Around the Corner

**A/n:** Apologies for this extremely late chapter update! I would like to clear up a few things that I thought were mentioned previously in 'Subject to Change' but in actuality were just little figments of my imagination trying to confuse me as they always do. So please let us assume that:

Edward was previously briefed on the situation (a.k.a. the war with Voldemort) by Dumbledore and his father, and therefore knows the general information of the events since Harry obtained his scar

Either Dumbledore or Hoenheim has also told Edward about Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He knows only what everyone else knows about their experiences at Hogwarts, meaning that since Edward and all other persons not involved in the trio's excursions were not present during said excursions, they only know what they have been told.

My theory on Hoenheim's appearance is this (please ignore that most of this is a bit out there and unbelievable….;): Since being sent through the Gate to pre-war London, England by Dante, Hoenheim still had some soul left in his body. He was able to live during that time and met Dumbledore a little later on. Since their initial meeting, Hoenheim has been secretly working with Dumbledore and was only introduced to the rest of the Order after Edward's arrival in England.

Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling, and various publishers including Scholastic and Bones.

The opinions of the characters Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger do not reflect those of the author.

* * *

**Around the Corner**

_The sun was setting in the west, throwing bursts of deep orange light through the quiet cemetery. Two small boys stood in front of a brand new gravestone, the slightly taller one stared at the letters carved into the white granite, the smaller one struggling to hold back tears._

"_Hey, brother?" the smaller one asked._

"_Hm?"_

"_Will we ever see Mom again?"_

_The taller one looked up sharply at his brother. "What do _you_ think?" he asked sarcastically. A baffled look crossed his face as he felt his eyes tear up. "Mom's dead." The little boy started to cry. "And she ain't ever coming back."_

"_B-but brother," the little boy stammered, "what are we gonna' do? How are we gonna' take care of ourselves?"_

_A sudden hint of determinedness shone in the older brother's eyes. "We're going to bring her back."_

"_But how?"_

_The older boy looked into his little brother's eyes and grabbed his hand to lead him back to an empty home. "With alchemy."_

_In the distance, a boy of about ten looked at the scene with agonized eyes. "Don't do it. Don't do it," he whispered, repeating the phrase like a mantra. He had a bad feeling about what was to come, but he was not able to tell why. There was a sense of foreboding as he was left alone at the cemetery. He tentatively walked over to the grave the two boys had just left and stared at the name. _Trish Elric,_ he thought._

_Suddenly the landscape around him dissipated. _What is going on?_ He panicked. When the space around him cleared again, the boy found himself in a dark room. He felt around himself, only to find a wall of some sort that prevented him from escaping his small enclosed space. Somewhere to his right he heard a door open. Light streamed in from above, (_What?! These walls are invisible?_) illuminating a flight of narrow rickety stairs and the two boys from earlier descending into what he assumed was a basement, carrying loads of bags in their arms._

"_Hey, switch the light for me?" one of them said._

_A lamp near the stairs turned on, and the boy continued to trump down the stairs. The boy in the prison stared. The brother appeared older by maybe a year or two, with an excited look on his face. Behind him, the younger brother's face was now visible. "He looks like me!" he said, surprised. Neither boy looked up. He banged on the invisible walls. "Hey! You two! Can you hear me? I'm kind of stuck in here!" The brothers continued with whatever they were doing._

_The boy sighed and plopped down on the floor. He was bored, and these kids were boring too. They weren't doing anything except for drawing a large circle on the floor and pouring some powdery substance in the center. "Wait a minute, this seems familiar…" The boy gasped as the brothers cut their fingers with a penknife and watched a few drops fall into the large pile of powder in the center of the circle. The two boys shared a look before dropping to their knees and placing their hands on the chalked lines of the circle._

_Instantly, cracks of yellow light filled the room. The materials disappeared with a flash of bright white light and the brothers grinned at each other. But then the light turned an ominous shade of deep purple, and the white light at the center of the circle distorted and grew red._

"_No…" The boy in the prison whispered. "No no no, stop, please stop, no no—"_

_He was cut off as the younger brother started to scream hysterically. "Brother!! Wh-What's happening?!" The other boy tore his eyes away from the red light to look at his younger sibling._

"_Alphonse…?" he said slowly. Then he screamed as well when he saw his brother's legs disintegrating into nothing. "Alphonse!" He grappled frantically for his brother's hands, but felt several slimy, cold things latch onto his own legs. He froze, eyes wide, and slowly looked down to see small black arms stretching out from _nowhere_ holding onto his feet._

_He screamed again and struggled with renewed vigor to reach for his brother's hand, but his legs were disappearing into a black pit of nothingness. "Alphonse!" he repeated. _

_The boy in the prison was rocking back and forth, staring at the scene in front of his eyes, unable to tear them away from the somehow-familiar situation. "Oh my God, Oh my God…Stop, please just stop…" He cried helplessly and let out a cry as the brothers, still reaching for each other, disappeared in a flash._

"_No, this can't be happening, no no no," the boy repeated. There was a mist all around the room, but his eye caught something moving in the middle of the circle. His rocking slowed then stopped. The thing gave a shuddering twitch. _What _is_ that?_ He thought. A thin black arm extended from the thing on the ground. _Is that…a body? _The hand rose shakily, reaching for the boy. Then suddenly he found a pair of blank white eyes staring into his own, a mouth wide-open, emitting horrid sounds that made his blood run cold._

_Another flash of light and the older brother reappeared, crumpled on the ground in a heap. The boy's face paled at the sight of the blood pooled around the other's body. His right arm and left leg were missing. The brother let out a choked sob. Then he heard a hacking cough that turned into a screech. His head slowly turned to the circle at the floor and he propped himself up on one knee, using his only hand for balance._

"_Mom…?" he said cautiously. "Mother?"_

_The soulless eyes turned to him and the thing let out a gurgled shriek._

_The brother's eyes went wide in hysteria. "Mommy?" The malformed arm reached for him. He screamed._

"_AL! ALPHONSE!" he cried his brother's name frantically, backing away then collapsing against the wall. He looked around. "AL!"_

_The boy in the prison clapped his hands to his ears and screamed as loud as he could, to block out the noise of the older brother's distress._

"_ALPHONSE! GIVE HIM BACK, YOU SON OF A—! HE'S ALL I HAVE LEFT, _PLEASE_! ALPHONSE!"_

"_ALPHONSE!"_

"_ALPHONSE!"_

"ALPHONSE!"

Alphonse woke with a start and fell out of his bed to the floor. He blinked his eyes multiple times, to get rid of the onslaught of tears that was building up. A woman's worried face, framed with dark, braided hair, swam into his view.

"Teacher?" Alphonse said shakily.

"It's alright Alphonse. I'm here. Don't worry." The woman shifted to a mother's role, which fit like a glove. "Don't cry anymore, dear. It's ok." She hefted him up gently onto her lap and hugged him tightly with strong arms. One of her hands drifted to pat his dark blonde hair, as he sniffled into her white dress. He tightened his hold around her neck and let out a trembling laugh.

"I'm too old for this cuddling stuff, aren't I, Teacher?" he asked. His eyes wrinkled up again and his body shuddered as he loosed another sob.

"Hush. Just calm down, nightmares happen to everybody. And you're only ten years old, dear," his teacher said soothingly.

"I was fourteen a couple of months ago, wasn't I?" Alphonse inquired bitterly. "Before, when brother was here?"

The teacher stayed silent. Her husband, Sig, shuffled his feet at the door to Alphonse's bedroom. "Izumi?' he asked, surprisingly soft for a man of his size and bulk. "Should I—"

She motioned for him to be quiet and flapped her hand to shoo him away. Her thoughts traveled back to the situation at hand. What Alphonse had said was true. After that incident in the underground city below Central, Alphonse, had emerged from the rubble as a sobbing ten-year-old boy in tattered rags, instead of the fourteen-year-old soul trapped in a suit of armor he was before, or the fourteen-year-old human teenager everyone was hoping and waiting for.

Military officials (herself among them of course, along with the Ishballan woman Rose, who had managed to escape the building with her baby before it fell) were already stationed outside the collapsed building when Alphonse had forced his way out of the debris, confused, scared and miraculously unscathed.

Frankly, Izumi knew something was wrong the moment Alphonse had demanded to know where his brother was. From the reports, the two were together when they entered the building, and it only made sense that they escaped together as well. Al did not go anywhere without his older brother, after all.

The sense of foreboding in her gut only grew when Colonel Mustang approached Alphonse, only to be on the receiving end of a hard kick to an uncomfortable area between the legs and a punch to the face. As Mustang went down (Izumi had momentarily felt a bittersweet pang of pride for her former student) and Hawkeye stepped in, the boy had begun to yell for his brother.

"Brother? I-I'm scared, brother! I don't know who these people are, Brother, where are you?"

Mustang was interrupted from his personal meeting with the ground at Al's outburst. "What do you mean you don't know us, Alphonse?" he asked slowly.

Alphonse scanned his surroundings before his gaze had fallen on Izumi. She remembered how his beautiful tear-filled eyes had gone impossibly wide with recognition.

"Teacher!" he exclaimed. He pushed himself awkwardly onto his feet and ran to Izumi, enveloping her in a hug. Izumi remembered how she had almost cried when she felt skin and bones fill her arms, instead of the hollow steel of armor she had been hugging for the previous four years. "Teacher," he said shakily, "Teacher, I'm scared. What is this place?"

Izumi looked down at Alphonse's dirty blond hair, and began to scrutinize the situation at hand. Edward and Alphonse had attempted human transmutation four to five years prior to the recent events. Edward emerged with a missing arm and leg. Alphonse's body did not make it at all. Just now, however, Alphonse's body was returned to him, exactly the same as when it was taken, but Edward was gone. The Gate was obviously involved, which led to the conclusion that someone had attempted human transmutation in the city below Central. But what—

Izumi's eyes had widened when she finally understood what had happened. "Alphonse, what is the last thing you remember?"

"Wh-what?" the boy stuttered. "What does that have anything to do with—?"

"Just answer the question, Alphonse," she had said sharply. She remembered that the surrounding military personnel shuffled uncomfortably while staring at her.

"Mrs. Curtis," Mustang began defensively, "Alphonse has just been through a rough ordeal. I know you're worried, but we cannot afford—"

Izumi had interrupted him with a glare that froze his bones. How dare he! "Colonel Mustang, I hope you are not telling me how to handle my own students."

"Uh, no ma'am, not at all," the Flame Alchemist had said hastily, and Izumi almost grinned as she remembered the cowed look on his young face. "I was just—er—never mind."

"Good," Izumi muttered before turning back to the child in her lap. "Alphonse?"

The boy had stiffened in her arms. Dread filled her heart (_Please do not let my assumptions be correct!_ She had pleaded with whatever deity who would listen to her) as his hazel eyes, clouded with regret and apology, rose slowly to look into her own. "Our human transmutation of Mom," he whispered before he fell asleep.

"Teacher?"

The sound of Alphonse's voice broke Izumi out of her thoughts. It had been a couple of months since that time, and there was still no word on her student's older brother. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the world.

"Are you okay now, Alphonse?" Izumi asked.

The boy nodded and sniffed pathetically, turning watering eyes to the window. The sun was just beginning to break the horizon, coloring the sky all shades of pink and purple and light blue, spreading beacons of warm and comforting light over the landscape.

As the two watched the miracle grow, Alphonse's hitched breathing began to even out. His slightly pudgy fists rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"Why don't we go and get ready for the day, Alphonse?" suggested Izumi softly. Then her calm expression morphed into a wicked grin. "You've got a helluva' lot of stuff to do today, runt."

Alphonse 'eep'd!' before scrambling to his feet. "Yes, teacher!" he said hurriedly while bowing. As she left the room, he walked to his closet to pick out his clothes for the day. After pulling out a pair of shorts and a shirt, the boy's thoughts wandered to his missing older brother.

Winry Rockbell, his friend from Risenbul, would be arriving at the local train station that afternoon. _Just to visit_, she had said cheerfully over the phone the last time he had spoken to her. _And Sheska's come to visit me, so she'll be tagging along too on her way back to Central_.

Remembering her words made Alphonse sigh. From what he had gathered from the stories he was told by Winry and various military personnel he could not for the life of him remember, it had been four years since he and brother had tried to resurrect their Mother. After a freak accident that had somehow landed himself without a body and his brother with a missing arm and leg, the two had traveled to Central, headquarters of the government.

There, his brother had been enlisted as a certified state alchemist under the direction of a certain Colonel Roy Mustang (whom Alphonse had met with regularly before the man had demoted himself and transferred to an "icy-shit bucket," in Izumi's words). Upon meeting with the man, Alphonse had concluded that he was a loyal friend and a good leader, although his slightly pompous and egoistic attitude told him that this was a man whom his short-fused brother would not have been able to handle very well.

From what he had heard from Mustang and his subordinates, this assumption of his was very true.

Alphonse sighed deeply. No matter how hard he tried to remember, he could not recall anything from the last four years. Nothing at all. He and his brother had made so many friends during that time, but the ones that he knew of he found out about through stories about his brother.

His brother had done so many things during the past four years while he was enlisted in the military, but the majority of those things were not for his own benefit. His work was aimed towards Alphonse and the people who surrounded him, the new friends he had made, and the people who respected him because of his position.

Alphonse wasn't about to let that go. It was because of his brother that he was alive in the first place. What kind of family would he be if he didn't make any attempts to find out where he was? And what better way to find his brother than through the results of Alchemy? After, Alchemy was what took him away. Logic and reason pointed to the hypothesis that it would bring him back as well.

That was why Alphonse had turned to Izumi for help two weeks after he was found in the collapsed building. And now here he was, observing all aspects of transmutation with his skilled teacher. Hopefully, her wisdom would be enough to find a way to his brother. If she couldn't help him, well then…wait, what _would_ he do? Having not thought this far into the future before, the ten-year-old began to panic.

Alphonse was spared from continuing that train of thought by Izumi's jarring voice, half-screeching and half-yelling his name.

The boy winced. "C-coming, Teacher!" he yelled back hastily.

"The sun's coming up, Alphonse! Move it!" came the short reply.

Alphonse yanked his shirt over his head and scrambled for his bedroom door. Knowing he was pressed for time but not really caring, he turned his slate-gray eyes towards the rising sun. The breathless sight of the yellow orb breaking the distant line of smooth pasture and farmland was enough to quell his previous pessimistic thoughts. Strength and hope bloomed somewhere deep in his chest, reminding him of how his brother was always able to plant some optimism into his spirit. The reminder of his brother raised his determination even more.

_No more weak Alphonse,_ the boy thought, a grin spreading across his face. _I'll do whatever it takes. I swear that with my own two hands I'll bring you back, brother. Next time I get this feeling, I swear it'll be _you_ putting it in me._

_I swear that the first thing you see when you come back is me, Edward._

**

* * *

**

"Elric. Hey, Elric! Oh dear God, he's got his nose in a book again. This kid is worse than Hermione."

Edward ignored the annoying voice and continued to scan the words on the page in front of him. _If transfiguration is the form of magic used to transform one certain object into another, _he thought,_ then would that make it the same as transmutation? It doesn't make sense at all because there's no equivalent exchange. Gah, there's no equivalent exchange in magic at all, it doesn't make SENSE! _The lack of equivalency in magic was a frustrating thought that had been bothering the teenager for many weeks.

An obnoxious finger poking him on the forehead rudely stopped his train of thought, and an orange blob swam into his peripheral view.

"Oi, El-ric," the voice sing-songed. "Is anybody there?" The tapping turned to knocking.

"Weasley, if you don't want that wrist broken, stop it now," the blonde muttered without looking up from his book. "Whaddya' want, anyway?"

"Well," the red-head said thoughtfully, ignoring the threat, "We were just wondering if you wanted to play another game of Quidditch. You know, since that's what manly men do, not sit around reading books like bloody girls. Ow!"

"Serves you right, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said impishly. "Where's playing Quidditch going to get you?"

"Right in with the Chudley Canons, that's where!" Ron retorted hotly. His ears immediately flamed red. "I'd rather be playing Quidditch than reading books and being smart any day."

Hermione smirked. "How's being smart worse than playing stupid sports? A toad looks like a genius sitting next to you, Ron."

Before he could bite back, Edward paused his reading to look up at the two. "Would you guys mind? I'm kind of reading here."

Hermione and Ron stopped their easy bickering, and sat quietly while looking at the book in Edward's gloved hands.

Ron's eyes furrowed. "Hey, why are you reading all the time anyway? I mean, it honestly can't be better than Quidditch."

Golden eyes glanced at Hermione who snorted, before they settled on a raven-haired head that had just popped through the doorway. "Hey guys," Harry said casually. "Sorry, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley wanted help with breakfast."

Edward nodded and said, "Well I can't really go to Hogwarts without knowing anything, can I? If I'm going to enter the school as a sixth year I have to know what you guys know."

"Wait, hold on," Ron said, perplexed. "That means—"

"That means you have to know everything we do?" Hermione interrupted. "But that's absurd! No one can ask you to learn five years of magical knowledge, you've only had a few months!"

"Hey, hey," Edward said, flustered, "What makes you think I _can't _do it in a few months? That's plenty of time! Dumbledore gave me all the school books for up to fifth year a couple months ago (you know, for just in case I did decide to come to Hogwarts) and I've been studying them since. I'm almost done."

While Ron stared, astounded at the blonde, Harry frowned. "Wait a minute, Ed. Dumbledore said that your alchemy was turned into magic when you passed through the Gate. Wouldn't you already know how—?"

"No," Edward cut him off, "Just because I can do magic know doesn't mean I _know_ how to do it. I still have to study and everything. I don't have a clue how the wand-waving crap works into all this and I haven't even tried it yet, since I don't have a wand. And Dumbledore mentioned something about a Minist-whatever that doesn't allow under-age wizards to perform magic outside of school."

The other three nodded understandingly. This Ministry guideline had always been a bit of a hassle for their "adventures."

A low whistle came from Ron. "So, you're something like a genius, huh?"

Ed looked at him blankly. "What's a 'ge-ni-us'?" he asked slowly.

Hermione, always eager to deposit knowledge on any unsuspecting person, said matter-of-factly, "Well, in the way Ron used the word, 'genius' means a person with high intellectual levels." Then she gave him a baffled look. "Hold on, you've never heard of that word before?"

"Even if I am a ge-nius, Hermione," Edward stated, "you can't expect me to learn an entire language in only a few months, can you? I mean, I can't learn _every_ word there is in that amount of time, and I haven't come across that particular one in my reading."

Edward received gapes from his recently acquainted friends. "What?" he muttered uncomfortably.

Harry shook his head. "You mean to tell me that when you came here through the Gate you didn't know how to speak English?"

"That's right," came the short reply.

"And now you do?"

"Yes sir."

Ron shared a look with Hermione and Harry. "What did I tell you? Genius."

Before Ed could smirk (in a cocky way, since he liked to piss the Weasley off), the door opened with a crack to reveal a red-faced Ginny.

"Breakfast downstairs, get your arses down now," the teenage girl said tightly before stomping back to the kitchen.

Looking confused, the four shrugged to each other. "Phlegm's probably bugging her," muttered Hermione waspishly. "She always gets in the way when she's not needed."

Ron was about to protest Hermione's snide comment but she grabbed his arm exasperatedly before dragging him down the stairs to follow Ginny.

"Well, we might as well go down too," Harry said to Edward. When the blonde nodded the two trooped out the bedroom door and down to the kitchen.

"SURPRISE!" Edward flinched back when the loud outburst reached his ears. As he glanced around, he took in with a bit of surprise the colorful balloons, weird flying things flitting near the ceiling, and the wide banner that stretched from wall to wall, proudly exclaiming "HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY HARRY!" in an obnoxiously loud voice.

Everyone was laughing and congratulating Harry on having lived to sixteen years of age (Ron received a slap on the back of the head from both Ginny and Hermione while joking that he was surprised Harry hadn't kicked the bucket yet). Edward stepped cautiously towards the door in order to escape the warm atmosphere.

Really, he didn't feel comfortable there. And who could blame him for that? He had spent the past few years of his life without a close family and avoiding teenagers of his age. This was the first time he had friends like this, and if he felt antsy here, then damn if he wasn't going to find a way to slip out. He didn't belong in this close, tight-knit family scene anyway.

Just as Edward was about to slip through the doorway, Harry hooked a finger around the collar of his shirt.

"And just where do you think you're going?" the birthday boy asked, smiling.

"Upstairs. Must study. Um, books waiting, you know, we've only got a couple of weeks 'til—"

"Oh come off it," Ron said exasperatedly. "You said yourself that you're almost done. You can spare some time to party a bit, can't you?"

"Well, yes," the blonde replied reluctantly, "but I'd much rather get it done early and review everything before starting the semester, and you know I've also got to—"

"There's food," Ron said slyly. He grinned mischievously as Edward stopped his struggling. He continued with his bribing. "There's a lot of it too. You know, the usual stuff we have for breakfast, only there's twice as much, and later on Mum's going to make a cake. _Five layers_. Have you ever tried my mum's cake, Elric? It's _so_ good, sugar frosting that's not too sweet, and buttery soft on the inside. Sounds good, huh Elric?"

Ed nodded slightly before realizing he was being scammed, and shook his head. He struggled to keep his hand from wiping the traitorous drool that was gathering at the corner of his mouth.

"You dirty bastard," he muttered, "trying to hoax me into joining your little…you know I've got to…argh, gah!" Edward shook Ron and Harry off him before stomping to the kitchen and grabbing a plate.

Harry and Ron shared a small, triumphant grin before they themselves returned to the party. "Happy birthday to me," Harry sang quietly to himself after he gave Mrs. Weasley a quick hug. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his adoptive mother flash Edward a bright smile, which the blonde timidly returned before he proceeded to stuff his face full of omelet.

**

* * *

**

Edward looked at the heavy parchment envelope in his hand with apprehension. The letter was addressed to him in loopy emerald green ink, and there was a thick bundle of folded parchment inside the envelope. He could feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his eyes at the thought that he would have to read all of this.

"Bloody hell."

The blonde looked up and watched as Harry's eyes widened at something that he was holding in a shaking hand.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked, jumping off the bed he was sitting on and smacking Ed on the back of the head with his palm before picking his way across the small bedroom through the piles of laundry and books littering the floor towards his best friend. Edward hissed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Q-Quidditch captain," the shocked boy said, turning his hand so a gold medal of some sort caught the rays of early sunlight. "I've been made Quidditch captain."

Ron snorted. "You seriously can't be surprised about that, Harry," he said while giving him a congratulating pat on the back. Hermione and Edward nodded their agreement. "I mean, Dumbledore and McGonagall would have to be stark raving _mad_ not to make you Quidditch captain."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped suddenly, "That gives you equal status with prefects! You can use our special bathroom now and everything!"

Edward inconspicuously tuned the trio out and turned back to the letters in his hand. _Aw hell,_ he thought reluctantly, _might as well get it over with._

Unfolding the packet in his hand his amber eyes scanned the parchment on top.

_Dear Mr. Elric,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Due to your abnormal situation, the Headmaster requests your presence in his office upon arriving at the school. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Confused as to why Albus Dumbledore would want to meet with him, Ed turned to the next piece of parchment. This one bore the same long green cursive that was used on the envelope.

_Dear Mr. Elric,_

_I'm sure Professor McGonagall has already let you know of our scheduled meeting in my office on September 1. We'll try to make this as quick as possible, since your fellow students (including yourself) will most likely be waiting to eat. I must cover some important matters with you, including your House sorting and rules._

_Depending on your preference, I can introduce you to your fellow students during announcements, or I can leave that task up to you._

_Thank you for deciding to attend Hogwarts. It means a great deal to your father as well as myself. We both wish for you to return to your brother as soon as possible, and this might be the only way. It may take a few years, but please have patience. I know you are worried about Alphonse, but I'm certain he is fine._

_I hope Harry, Ron, and Hermione are treating you well._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster_

_Aw geez_, Ed thought. _That old coot always knows what I'm feeling, just by looking at me._ Perturbed, he shook his head and turned to the next page. _Bloody hell_.

Edward's gold eyes wandered from the parchment in front of him. A wand? _Oh shit_._ I forgot about that_. The other items on the list were numerous and complicated. Where the hell was he supposed to get all this stuff? And how would he pay for it? He didn't really fancy the idea of asking for money from Mrs. Weasley. They were already doing so much for him, letting him live in their house, it wouldn't be equivalent. Besides, they had several kids to buy things for, it wouldn't do at all.

His questions were answered (Ed breathed a sigh of relief) as he flipped to the next page of the packet.

_Dear Mr. Elric_ (Edward was starting to get annoyed with the lack of letter openings available in the English language; he could come up with at least five different ones in his own native tongue),

_Due to your special circumstances, the Ministry of Magic will be granting you access to limited government funding. You have been given a bank account with Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley. You may withdraw up to 250 Galleons every visit, and bank transactions may be made through Bill Weasley if you wish. I hope this will be to your convenience and enjoy your semester at Hogwarts._

_Sincerely,_

_Rufus Scrimgeour_

_Minister of Magic_

A snort escaped Ed's throat, and his lips formed a small grin. This would be just like when he was in the military, charging everything to his state funding, albeit he often charged too much (usually on restaurant checks) and was left to scrabble for extra work from that bastard Mustang for money.

"Hey, Ed?" Hermione called giddily. "Anything exciting? Wow, that's a big letter."

"Nah," said the blonde, scrunching up his face. "Just a couple of letters from crazy old bats telling me what to do and everything. Oh, and Dumbledore wants to meet me when we get to the school."

A baffled look grew on Harry's face. "Wonder why, though?"

Ed shrugged and continued to sift through his letters. "Where do we get all this stuff, anyway?"

"Well, Diagon Alley, of course," Ron said, as if this were obvious.

"Don't get cocky, smartass," muttered Ed vehemently. It wasn't his fault he didn't know.

"Oops," commented Ron with a wise grin on his face, "forgot you're new here, pipsqueak."

Mrs. Weasley, who was calmly administering to dinner in the kitchen downstairs, jumped as the noise of Ed's strangled voice yelled some colorful obscenities to a certain life-threatened son of hers who was screaming like a girl. Honest to God, her own children would be her demise before You-Know-Who could even touch her.

**

* * *

**

Over dinner, the Hogwarts students were eagerly discussing the new school year, and the highly anticipated trip to Diagon Alley.

"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these," Mrs. Weasley said wearily to no one in particular, as she looked over Ron and Ginny's booklist. Really, there was so many things to buy. Would the shopping _ever_ leave her a moment's peace? "Arthur's managed to get Ministry cars again, thank goodness. And we're to meet our security guard once we get to the Alley."

"Security guard, Mum?" mumbled Ron through a mouthful of pudding. Hermione punched his arm and quickly reminded him to keep his mouth shut while chewing. After shooting the brunette a look behind her back, he asked "What for?"

"For me, of course," Harry muttered moodily. "They can't leave the basket case unprotected after all."

The five teenagers at the table sniggered, but Mrs. Weasley was not so quick to entertain.

"Well," she snapped, her red-orange hair popping our of her tied back hair. _Strange_, Edward noticed, smiling. _It's like her hair reacts to whatever she's feeling._ "Apparently you lot haven't heard of Florean Fortescue and Ollivander disappearing, have you?"

Harry's smile slid right off his face. "Fortescue?" he asked with an unnamable look in his eye. "That bloke who owned the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" When Mrs. Weasley nodded, he continued. "He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened to him?"

"Dragged off, by the look of his place."

"Wait a minute," Hermione interrupted. "What'll Edward do for a wand? If Ollivander's gone—"

"We'll just have to make do with other wand makers, Edward dear," the slightly plump woman said kindly, turning to the blonde. "Such a shame though, Ollivander was the best there was. I was hoping to buy you a proper wand."

"That's alright, Mrs. Weasley," Ed said hastily. "The Milit—I mean, the Ministry, they're funding me. I've got my own bank account with Gringotts, so I can pay for all my school supplies myself. And the letter from the Fuh—uh, the Minister, said that Bill's my transactor, and he can make withdrawals in my name, if it's not too much trouble."

"Well," a new voice coming from the back door said, joining the conversation, "I'll get the gold for you lot during my night shift tonight then. 'Evening, Mum." He placed a peck on her cheek and nodded to everyone else at the table.

"Hello, Bill dear," Mrs. Weasley said with an almost discrete sigh of relief. "Welcome home. Fleur's upstairs in the bedroom, she mentioned having a headache earlier today."

"Thanks, Mum," he said worriedly. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, Bill, hurry and go see her." Mrs. Weasley flapped a hand to get him to hurry, but Ed could see a tic working in her face that told him she did not want to talk about Fleur at the moment.

The chatter (and a small outbreak of a food fight, courtesy of Ginny) continued until Mrs. Weasley took it upon herself to shoo everyone up to bed, claiming she would handle the dishes herself, and to get plenty of rest because only God knew how long they would be stuck at Diagon Alley tomorrow.

Harry and Edward called their goodnights to the other three as they went their separate ways at the stairwell, and the two trudged together up another flight of stairs to the bedroom that they shared.

"Where _is_ Diagon Alley, anyway?" Edward asked sleepily. He grabbed one of the open books on his desk and plopped down on his bed, wearing a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt. He had gotten more and more comfortable with leaving his automail arm and leg exposed while living in the Weasley house, but he would have to be very careful about it once the school year started.

"Well, it's in London, somewhere," Harry said thoughtfully, turning the switch of the lamp closest to him. "But I don't really know, I've never been in the surrounding area. The place is behind this pub, the Leaky Cauldron, but I think only wizards can see the place."

"Oh." Edward grunted a short thank you, before flipping his book open to a previously marked page. A mumbled 'good night' came from somewhere underneath Harry's mound of blankets, but the alchemist was already far too engrossed in his reading to acknowledge it. It wasn't until well past midnight that his bedside light finally clicked off.

* * *

**A/n:** --;; Slight unsatisfaction with this chapter (mainly the Alphonse part) was probably to blame for the lateness of this update. That, combined with my amazing skills in procrastination. I really hope that it won't decide to rear it's ugly head at me again. Expect a quicker update next time (hopefully), I had to cut three pages worth of writing to put in the next chapter since at the rate I was going at I wouldn't have finished until August. Sorry!

Thank you to anonymous reviewers **WinterChanterelle** and **anon.** Your kind words are appreciated!

Once again, thank you for reading. Until next time!

Michi P.


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